


Vince's Surprise

by littlemissvincentvega



Series: Vince's Princess ♥ [7]
Category: Pulp Fiction (1994), Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: Alcohol, Arguing, Bickering, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Grinding, Hot Tub, Humor, Kissing, Sleepy Cuddles, Smut, Spanking, Teasing, booze, romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 14:44:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18251948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemissvincentvega/pseuds/littlemissvincentvega
Summary: you're in a bit of a sulky mood, and your boyfriend Vincent has the perfect idea to cheer you up ♥





	Vince's Surprise

“I’m not sure when it happened, but I fell in love with you, and it was the best thing I’ve ever done.” 

You look up from your book. “Shut up, Vincent.”

“Someone’s a cranky shit, huh?” he snickers, pulling you into his lap. He takes your book off you.

“No.”

“I know what’ll cheer you up, baby.”

You rest your head under his chin. “What?”

“Hot tub.”

You perk up, and he smirks down at you. Grinning, you jump up and he slaps your ass before you run off to get a bikini on. As you’re sifting through your closet to find something flattering, you hear Vince slam the door shut to go and fill the tub. Biting your lip, you pull out a black halterneck two piece and change into it. You admire yourself in the mirror for a second before slipping into your white bathrobe, grabbing a few towels and running outside to Vincent - he’s clutching a bottle of beer and has other bottles of booze lined up on the edge of the hot tub, looking very pleased with himself.

“C’mon baby, it’s almost ready.”

Placing the towels on the side of the tub, you wait for the water to heat up a little more while Vincent unbuttons his shirt. You smile, edge forward and take it off for him, dropping it on the floor.

“Thanks, honeypie,” he smirks, looking down at you.

“It’s okay,” you say, unbuckling his belt and gliding a hand over his crotch.

“Mmm. Did you bring me any trunks?”

“Shit, I forgot.”

“I’ll get ‘em. Don’t get in without me,” he says, squeezing your ass through your bathrobe and sauntering inside. You giggle and gaze at the black sky, waiting for him.

After about five minutes, he returns wearing the trunks you bought him last summer - white with pink hearts all over. Although they look ridiculous, you can’t help but admire his dad bod. “You’re such an idiot,” you snigger, letting your robe drop to the floor. His eyes widen and drop down to your chest, and you click your fingers at him. “Earth to Vince?”

He jumps. “Sorry baby, your tits are fuckin’ gorgeous.”

You smile, rolling your eyes and slapping his arm playfully. “Come on then, I’m fuckin’ freezing here.”

“I can tell,” he says, nodding towards your tits - your nipples are poking through your bikini top.

“Fuck off.”

He snickers to himself and spanks you as you climb into the hot tub, letting the steam hit your face and the warmth hug you. Stepping in after you, he wraps an arm around you and kisses your temple. “God, that’s better,” you sigh. “Pass me a drink?”

Vincent stretches his arm and grabs a bottle of champagne from the side, shoving it into your hand. “Hold this a sec,” he mutters, getting a towel. You take off the foil and screw it up before handing him back the bottle, and he opens it for you - one loud pop and it fizzes up, spilling over into the water, making you both giggle. “Shit!” he hisses, swirling it around with his hand.

“Vince, that’s not helping,” you grin, taking a swig from the bottle. 

Smirking at you, he reaches over and grabs a beer, leaning back a little and relaxing. He lets out a content sigh. “What time’s your murder tomorrow?” you ask casually, sipping the booze.

“I thought I told you to stop callin’ it that?”

“Oh, so you’re suddenly  _not_  a hitman?”

“Yeah, but–” he begins to protest, and you can practically see the cogs turning in his brain, “–fuck you. It’s at six.”

“Ugghhh…. when will you be back?” you sigh, taking his arm and draping it around your shoulders.

“Christ, baby, I don’ know, uhh– sometime in the afternoon?” he says, clearly unsure, and you cuddle up to him, disappointed. “What’s that face for, pumpkin?”

You huff. “I just get bored at home by myself.”

“S’okay, I’ll make it up to you when I get back,” he sniggers, kissing from your temple down to your cheek.

“Mhm, how?” you ask, shyly.

Vincent, not taking his eyes off you, takes the champagne off you and rests it and his beer on the side. “I think you know how, princess.” He pulls you towards him, holding you close firmly and trailing kisses over your neck. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck and kiss him deeply - pretty soon, the two of you are making out in a slow frenzy. “Christ, honeypie, you know how to make a guy go fuckin’ nuts,” he groans, smirking and feeling your ass.

You giggle into his lips. “I try.”

“So you two kids done yet?” a voice asks, and you and Vincent almost shit yourselves.

“Who the fuck–  _VIC?”_ he splutters, and you clutch onto his arm timidly. “How the fuck long’ve you been standin’ there?”

Vic shrugs. “’Bout a month?” he smirks, strutting over to the hot tub and unbuttoning his shirt. “You mind if I join?”

“Well whatever I fuckin’ say you ain’t gonna listen, so sure.”

Smiling smugly, Vic strips to his boxers and gets in the tub with you two. “So, uh, who’s the pretty lady?” he asks, studying you, his eyes drifting up and down your body.

“She’s  _my_ pretty lady.”

“Mm. Got yourself a nice one there. What’s your name, honey?”

“(Y/N),” you say quietly.

Vic lights a cigarette. “Yeah, very nice.” 

“So why the fuck’re you here?” Vince sniffs, evidently pissed that his brother had ruined your little steamy makeout sesh. You kiss his arm gently, still clutching it from before, to try and calm him a little.

“What, am I not allowed to come visit my big brother?”

“How the fuck did you even get in?”

Vic shrugs at this and smirks to himself. “We’re both professional criminals, Vince.” He seems to be permanently chilled out, rather like how Vincent seems to be permanently smug. “Can I stay the night?”

“Uh-uh, no way.”

“Why not?”

“I’m leavin’ at 5:30 tomorrow mornin’, I’m not leavin’ you here with (Y/N).”

“I’m not a dog, Vincent,” you scoff.

“I know, baby, just shut up a sec.”

“Shouldn’t be tellin’ such a lovely lady to shut up, Vince,” Vic tuts, smirking to himself. He rests his hands behind his head and eyes you both. “So can I stay or not?”

“No!”

You play with Vincent’s hair, twirling it around your fingers. “Why don’t you just let him stay?” you ask, and he frowns at his brother. 

“For Chrissake - okay, gimme a pack of Red Apples then, and you can stay tonight,” he grunts. 

The familiar, smug ‘Vega Smile **™** ’ grows on Vic’s face, and he leans over and lightly slaps Vincent’s cheek repeatedly. “Thanks, big brother,” he smirks, as Vincent smacks his hands away, “and thank you, sweetheart.” He winks at you.

Tentatively, you smile back. “Can you fuck off now?” Vince growls, tightening his arm around you.

“What’s the rush?”

“Can’t you see we’re tryin’ to have some fuckin’ alone time?”

“Fine, fine…” Vic says slowly, getting out of the hot tub, not breaking eye contact. You give his body a once over with your eyes. “I’ll just, uh, take these…” He grabs a towel and a couple of beers. “You kids have fun… thanks again, Vinny,” he says, sauntering off inside.

Vincent rolls his eyes. “I hate when he calls me that,” he mutters.

“Chill, daddy,” you whisper, kissing him gently, and you feel his face soften. He cups your cheek, caressing it. You reach over and hand him his beer back.

He downs about a third of the bottle at once, and you giggle. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re so easy to piss off,” you smile, sitting back and resting your head in the nook of his neck.

“Fuck you.”

Still giggling, you drape his arm around you again, shivering slightly - although the hot tub is lovely and warm, everywhere above your shoulders is bitten by the freezing winter air. Vincent kisses the top of your head and the two of you sit cuddling and stargazing, bewildered at the little twinkling specks in the sky.

A good twenty minutes pass, and after noticing how late it is, you both decide to go to bed. Vincent gets out, wrapping a towel around him. “Wait here, baby,” he says, running inside and returning a couple of minutes later with a fresh towel.

“Why have you–?” you begin, confused, but he helps you out of the tub and bundles you up in the fresh towel - it’s warm. You smile, happy and giddy.

“Always the best for my princess,” he smirks, carrying your robe for you and walking you back inside, you cuddled up to him. As you walk past the living room, the two of you hear faint moaning, and look at each other in a  _‘what the fuck is that’_  kind of expression. Vince opens the door a little and sticks his head through, then wrenches it open. “What the fuck are you doin’? The fuck is this?”

Vic stirs, looking up at his brother from the couch. “Watchin’ porn,” he says casually.

“Go to fuckin’ sleep, I don’t wanna be hearin’ you jerkin’ off while I’m trying to count sheep.”

“I didn’t turn it to this, it was already on this channel when I turned your TV on, you filthy motherfucker.” You snigger at their bickering, and Vic notices, smirking at you. “Why are you wearing those?” He nods to Vincent’s heart-covered trunks.

“I don’t watch TV. Or porn.” Vince mutters, ignoring his brother’s comment.

“Yes you fucking do,” you say, laughing at him, and he turns and looks at you, offended.

“Who’s side are you on?”

“Fucking hell Vince, no need to get defensive!”

“If you don’t watch TV, why do you have one?” Vic asks, clearly wanting to push him over the edge. Feeling guilty for finding it funny, you clutch Vincent’s hand, and he relaxes a little.

“Just turn the fuckin’ porn off, we’re goin’ to bed,” he sighs.

“Huh. Okay, you uhh… sleep well. Night, pretty lady.”

Vincent gives him a sarcastic smile and saunters off, you trailing behind him. You throw Vic an amused glance, him blowing you a goodnight kiss, before closing the door and following your boyfriend to your bedroom. You sit on the bed in your towel, watching him change into his boxers and pyjama shirt. “Why so serious, daddy-o?” you smile.

“He’s a fuckin’ idiot is why.”

“You’re so grumpy,” you grin, getting up and lacing your arms round his neck, looking at him intently. He smiles at you, kisses your nose and you break away from him, going into the en-suite to brush your teeth.

He leans against the doorway watching you. “Do you really blame me with a fuckin’ nimrod like that for a brother?”

“I told you, I’m not taking sides,” you say, your words muffled - your mouth is full of toothpaste. You finish brushing your teeth and rinse your mouth out.

“I’m just sayin’, he’s an irresponsible fuckhead.”

“Vince, that’s literally what Jules says about you but you don’t see it,” you point out, starting to change into your nightshirt and pretty lace panties.

He gazes at you, smirking, but drops it when he realises what you just said. “You  _agree_  with him on that?”

“No, I’m just saying I see where he’s coming from, you  _can_  be an idiot.”

“Well thanks, I love you too.”

You giggle at him and as you walk past him, he squeezes your ass. The two of you climb into bed lazily and you cuddle up to him. “I’ll admit he’s a  _bit_ of an idiot,” you whisper.

“Finally. Thank you, princess.”

“I mean, it would make sense.”

“What?”

“Well, you’re both idiots and both related. You both have the idiot gene,” you smirk, and he sits up, giving you a feigned look of hurt. “You know I’m kidding,” you grin, trailing sweet kisses around his neck. Looking up at him, you see his offended expression is gone, and his smug smile has made another appearance. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothin’.”

Suddenly, it hits you, and you screw your nose up. “ _VINCE!_ Have you fucking farted? Oh, you dirty motherfucker!” You slap his arm playfully and waft the air with your hand as he giggles uncontrollably. “I was gonna suck your dick tonight but no way, not after this! Eugh!” Face still screwed up, you scramble to the edge of the bed, facing away from him, the bed shaking with his laughter.

“I’m sorry baby, I had to,” he chuckles, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you back towards him.

“You could’ve at least done it in the bathroom,” you huff.

“Thought I’d save it for you.”

You look over your shoulder at him, giving him a look of disgust. “Thanks very much.”

“Like I said, always the best for my princess,” he grins, leaning forward and kissing you, “sweet dreams.” He turns the lamp off and settles.

“Night, asshole.”


End file.
